Down by the Seaside
by FleursdeLis
Summary: Post season 8. Michael is back in play, and he's demanding Dean allow him to use him. What will Dean do? What will Sam do? What happened to Cas after the fall? Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

_A bright light rose up out of the barren brown earth and began consuming everything its path. It didn't discriminate between plant or animal, between adult and child. It plowed through everything, leaving destruction in its wake as it searched for one single soul. This soul, who the light could not touch in normal circumstances, has now been made available for it to seek out. The soul has fallen asleep, and the light knows where to find it. It barrels forward on an invisible path before stopping abruptly in Kansas. There's a barrier between the light and its target, but since the light is only energy, it can pass through it and into the sleeping mind of the soul it has been searching for for years._

_ As the light enters its target and reveals itself, it sees a man standing by a lake blackened with evil souls meant to be in purgatory. The man is leaning over and picking up a dirty, wet trench coat and folding it up. But as he does this, he seems to sense the light and the scene of the lake disappears. The man now stands in a white room and turns to look at the light, but that isn't what he sees. He sees the form of his half-brother, Adam, standing in the room with him._

_ "Michael," he states plainly._

_ "Dean," Michael replies, "do you know why I am here?"_

_ "I would guess I'm dreaming, and this has something to do with the angels being cast out of heaven."_

_ "You are correct."_

_ "So where do you come into all this?" Dean asked, picking up a bottle of beer that appeared on a table that hadn't been in existence but a moment earlier._

_ "I can open Heaven again for the angels," he began, "but I need help."_

_ "You? All powerful Michael, who, by the way, a mere human managed to cage up for eternity, needs help?" Dean looked at him incredulously. _

_ "Yes. I need to get out of the cage," he paused, "and I need to use my vessel. This one is now only operational for something as simple as dream walking."_

_ "Forget it." Dean practically growled, slamming his drink down on the table. The once white room darkened to an almost unfathomable black, where only Michael and he were visible against it._

_ "Listen, Dean, if you want the angels off your precious Earth and back where they belong, you're going to need help only I can give. There's no other way to put them back."_

_ "There's no such thing as only one way to do things," Dean grumbled, "Remember how the only way to end the apocalypse was letting you and Lucifer battle it out? It didn't end that way! Sam, my little brother, defeated you both."_

_ "Dean, I'll bottom line it for you." Michael reached out his hand and placed it on Dean's shoulder, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "If you don't release me and let me in, I will drag Sam back down here and I'll join in this time on Lucifer's fun. Believe me, Dean, I'm much more creative than he."_

_ "I'm done with this conversation."_

* * *

Dean woke up with a start, sitting all the way up and gasping for air.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked. He had forgotten that he fell asleep in the sitting room on the couch.

"Yeah," he trailed off, still a bit spooked by his dream. What if it really was Michael, and he had to go through everything again with telling him to shove off? He couldn't do it again, he didn't have the energy, the will. "How you feelin', Sammy?"

"I'm not as weak anymore, and I can stay up longer."

"Good. How long was I out?" He felt like he hadn't slept in a month, and in a way that was true.

"Maybe a half hour?" Sam looked up from his book and really took in the image of his big brother. He seemed gaunt and tired with bags under his eyes and the way that it seemed to take everything out of Dean just to get up. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he answered, as Sam knew he would. He knew Dean wouldn't want Sam to worry about him while he was still recovering from the trials, but it pissed him off that Dean wouldn't let him in on what was wrong with him.

"Dean, you've been having nightmares worse than I've ever seen, your drinking is at a whole new level, and you look like you've been run over by a truck, twice."

"Yeah, I've been having nightmares, and that's all they are. It's nothing to worry about."

"I think it is, because you wouldn't have had to say that's all they are if you really thought that. What are they about? And when's the last time you had a proper sleep?"

"Not for a while, and it doesn't matter what they're about." Dean grabbed a bottle of whisky and drank straight from it, not bothering with a glass. Sam knew it would be gone before noon.

"How long is a while?" He pushed.

"Since the angels fell," he replied. Sam knew then that something big must be up, not because of the amount of time, three months, that passed between the angels fell and now, but by the fact that Dean would tell him this, that he would let Sam in on what's going on so easily. Usually getting information out of Dean when it's concerning him is like pulling teeth.

"Why?"

"Like I said, nightmares." He took another swig, "That's why I came out here. I figured maybe sleeping with someone else in the room would help, but I guess it didn't." He paused, looking around, "Where's Cas?"

"He's taking a shower, I think."

"How's he?"

"Dean, you know how he is, and you're just changing the subject. What are your nightmares about?"

Dean looked like he was about to lie again, to say they were about nothing, but something must have changed his mind, because he looked at Sam directly, and then looked away, almost seemingly out of shame. What could Dean be ashamed of? "They're about Michael."

"Michael? Like The Michael?" He asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Yes, The Michael."

"What happens in these dreams?"

"You sound like a freakin' psychiatrist, would you stop?" Dean stood, finishing off another quarter of the bottle. Sam could tell he was losing him and that he wouldn't get much more information, but he had to try. If his brother was dreaming of Michael, then something bad was coming.

"Dean, sit down. What does Michael say?"

Dean continued standing, but he didn't walk off like Sam had expected. "A bunch of nonsense. It's nothing. Just let me deal on my own."

"But you don't have to, Dean."

"Yeah I know, you're here for me, whatever." Dean replied with a voice dripping in sarcasm. He knew that this is how Dean copes, he makes jokes and shuts everyone out, and Sam hated that. He wanted to slap Dean and tell him just to let him help, but he knew that would get him nowhere but a broken nose and loose teeth. Before Sam had a chance to try to get him to explain, Dean had left and staggered into his bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was too bright, the light in his room. He wanted desperately to turn it off, but he was afraid of the darkness lulling him to sleep, so he stayed laying stock still on his bed and staring up at the ceiling. He let his mind wander to new places, to places he hadn't allowed it to touch since…well, ever. As he laid thinking and contemplating his situation, he missed the sound of his door slowly creaking open and the slight shuffling of feet as someone moved closer to his bed.

"Dean," the voice said hesitantly, like it was afraid of reprimands from its subject. It took him a moment to bring himself out of his thoughts to recognize the owner of the voice, Cas. "Sam sent me to talk to you. He's worried."

"And he thinks sending you will help?" Dean replied dryly, realizing too late how harsh he had sounded.

"I suppose he does," Cas said simply.

"How are you feeling, Cas? I mean, being human and all." Dean said, diverting the subject away from himself.

"It's…different." Cas came over and sat on the bed with Dean, still unaware of the concept of personal space. It also bothered him to see Cas without his trench coat, to see him in normal jeans and a t-shirt, but Dean understood that the fallen angel now felt things such as heat and the uncomfortable feeling of a suit. "I never realized how strongly humans feel." He echoed Dean's thoughts.

"Did you lose everything?" He asked. He realized that in the three months of him becoming human, Dean had never really talked to him about it. He just helped him the best he could and avoided this conversation.

"Yes, I lost everything." There seemed to be a hitch in his voice that Dean never remembered hearing before.

"I can't pretend to know what you're going through," Dean began, "to see your whole family fall and lose everything, but Cas, for everything that's happened to you, for all that you feel you may have lost, you'll always have us. You'll always have me and Sam." He sat up in bed and laid a reassuring hand on Cas's shoulder, turning him to look at him.

"Thank you, Dean." He stared at him openly, seeming to search Dean's eyes for something. "It is nice to know I have a home, even if my real one is closed to me forever."

"It may not be forever," Dean tried to cheer him up.

"It will be, Dean." Cas's expression hardened, "You will not do as Michael asks."

"How did you…?" He began to ask how he knew what Michael was asking him to do, because he never told Sam or Cas what Michael wanted him to do. He knew Cas knew him well, knew he was able to be in his dreams when he was an angel, but could he now, now that he was human?

"I can't see your dreams anymore, but I do know that you have been dreaming of Michael, which leads me to conclude, since the angels have fallen, that he is asking you break him free so he can fix the mess up here." Cas grabbed Dean's shoulder, "Dean, you must ignore him and do not indulge him. Don't speak to him, don't let him know you can hear him. He can be very dangerous, even in dreams."

"I won't, Cas," he promised.

"Now, I should probably go tell Sam I have talked to you, and that everything is okay." He paused as he stood up, "It is okay, right Dean?" He heard the edge of warning in his tone, telling him that Cas meant it when he said for Dean to ignore Michael, so he conceded and told him everything was fine. "Good," he said as he left Dean to his thoughts.

* * *

"Sam," Cas said as he entered the library. "Dean is alright."

"He hasn't been sleeping, though," Sam looked up, worry gleaming in his eyes as his brow creased.

"We had a good talk," he replied evenly while taking a seat in the chair next to Sam, "I think he will be okay."

"What did you talk about?" Cas considered the question for a moment, contemplating on whether he should tell Sam about what Michael wants, or whether he should let Dean do that. He decided it would probably be best for Dean to inform Sam of Michael's intentions, since it seemed not his place to reveal Dean's secrets. He didn't understand fully why Dean didn't tell him, but he figured he had his reasons.

"We talked about my humanity," he answered instead, "it was nice to talk to Dean as a friend again."

"He has been rough on you lately," Sam commented.

"I believe he means well. I think he is just having trouble balancing getting you better and working with me on humanity." He paused a moment, "Have you noticed the weight Dean's lost, though?"

"Huh?" Sam looked up, "No, I haven't. Has he?"

"Yeah," Cas said. He realized too late that his words would make Sam worry more about his brother and probably get himself into trouble with Dean, but it bothered him how Dean seemed to be spiraling downward and Sam didn't notice except for his lack of sleep.

"Are you sure you're not just imagining it?" Sam asked incredulously.

"I'm certain." _Stop, Cas._ He told himself, _Dean isn't going to be happy to know you brought this up to Sam._ "He's been eating less and drinking more."

"I know about the drinking." Sam almost whispered.

"And you haven't said anything?"

"I did, in passing, but he blew me off." He finally looked up to Cas again, to see the serious expression he was wearing on his face, willing Sam to help his brother. "He won't talk to me Cas, about anything. That's why I sent you in, figuring he may be more willing to talk you."

"Why would he be more willing to talk to me?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I figured it couldn't hurt."

"It didn't."

"Was he sleeping when you went in?"

"No."

"I'm going to go talk to him." Sam got up and began walking over to Dean's room. Cas sat still in the chair and began thinking. He saw the look in Dean's face that said he was lying when he told Cas he would ignore Michael. He knew Dean better then Dean thought he did, and it bothered him that he would lie about this. He guessed that it shouldn't bother him, since Dean lies about almost everything concerning himself, but it did. If they were brothers, as Dean said, then shouldn't he tell him the truth? What was Dean hiding behind his lies

* * *

Dean sat on his bed with a bottle of…he wasn't exactly sure what it was, just that it helped make his head foggy and helped him forget about his dreams. He finished off the bottle and decided to lie day, to try to sleep. He knew he couldn't go forever without sleep, and so figured he may as well try again. He had made damn sure though that he drank that whole bottle to help put him under, but he had a nagging feeling that it wouldn't help as much as he needed it to.

"Dean," he heard come from the doorway.

_Now what?_ He grumbled to himself in his head as he looked to see Sam standing there hesitantly.

"I'm sorry, were you sleeping?"

"Not yet," he slurred. The words tasted funny in his mouth as he said them and couldn't quite figure out why, but he had an idea that it had to do with the drink he just finished.

"Do you want some sleeping pills?" Sam asked, which bothered Dean. He almost never offered those to him, because he didn't want Dean to get addicted. He was also wary of accepting them, because what if Michael would visit him in his dreams and he wouldn't be able to wake up?

It didn't matter though, he needed sleep, and so he agreed and took some before sinking back onto his pillow and closing his eyes.

* * *

_Soft sunlight bounced off the gentle waves of the small lake as Dean cast into it a fishing rod. He sat back on a chair, a cold beer in his hand, Sammy and Cas sitting next to him. He smiled at each in turn, happy to teach them both a little about fishing, and also happy to just have some quiet down time with them._

_ "Leaves are falling all around, it's time I was on my way," Dean began singing, and smiled as both Sam and Cas joined in on the next verse, "Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay."_

_ He sat back and sang and caught a few perch before he stood up and walked into the forest behind them, slowly fading from his dream into a deep nothingness._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Thanks for all the views and reviews, I really appreciate it! Sorry this chapter is short, but I felt this would be a good place to end. Hopefully the next one will be up soon!**

**I don't own supernatural.**

Chapter 3

Dean woke up feeling refreshed and Michael free. He stood from his bed and made his way to the kitchen, a lightness in his step present that hadn't been there for a long, long time.

"Hey, Sammy!" he called.

"Yeah?" he answered warily, not sure how to take in Dean's lighthearted tone.

"You want some eggs? I'm makin' breakfast." He smiled to Sam as he held up the carton. He would have offered to make Cas some too, but he couldn't see him anywhere. "And where's Cas?"

"It's two o'clock in the morning; he's sleeping, like most normal people," sassed Sam.

"Do you want eggs or not?"

"Sure," he replied off handedly, going back to concentrating on whatever he was doing on his laptop.

"How does this place even have wifi?" Dean asked.

"I got installed it."

"Oh," _That's perfectly normal; the bat cave now comes with wifi! _he thought sarcastically as he went back to working on the skillet, "how do you want them?"

"Doesn't matter."

"What are lookin' up?"

"I think I may have found us a job," he replied.

"We have a job, Sam, remember? Angels walking the Earth."

"Yeah, well, I think we need a break." Sam stood up and came over to Dean, brandishing a plate for his almost finished eggs. "It's in New Orleans."

"What's goin' on?"

"People are disappearing, all men over the age of twenty one."

"Any connections besides that?"

"Not that I can see yet." He looked at the scrambled eggs on his plate. "I should have asked for an omelet."

"Well, you didn't. Enjoy."

"Thanks." Sam sat at the table, and Dean noticed that he was waiting for him to come over before he began eating. He quickly finished making his eggs and went over to join his brother. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" He knew exactly what he meant, but he wanted Sam to ask him.

"You're not sleeping, you've lost weight, and you're drinking a lot more, too." Dean had expected Sam's voice to be angry, chiding even, but not this. His voice sounded tired and sad, and it threw Dean.

"No, Sam, I don't want to tell you what's going on," Dean began and then sighed, "but I will." He looked up from his food and saw a surprised look on his brother's face, and Dean knew he had been preparing for a fight. "I told you about my dreams of Michael, right?"

"Yeah," Sam answered carefully.

"Well, he's doin' more than just showin' his ugly face." He paused to take a bite of food. "He wants me to break him outta jail."

"He wants you to get him out of the cage?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Yeah, and he ain't nice 'bout it either." Dean paused again, unsure whether he should tell Sam about Michael wanting to use him again. He decided he'd lied enough to Sam, "And he wants to jump my bones."

"That doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?"

"That he thinks you would even consider setting him free." Sam looked at him pointedly, but Dean averted his gaze, not wanting to see the disappointment come across Sam's face as he realized Dean _had_ considered it, taking into account Michael's threat of throwing Sam back into Hell. "Dean, don't tell me…"

"Okay, I won't tell you." Dean threw his plate into the sink and began turning for his room when Sam stood up to stop him.

"Why?" was the only question he asked.

"He threatened to drag you back down there." Dean still wouldn't meet Sam's eyes, because he knew what lay there. Disappointment and heartbreak; things Dean couldn't handle right now.

"He can't, Dean." he answered and put his hand under Dean's chin like he was a child, forcing him to look his brother in the eyes.

"You don't know that," Dean huffed, "If Cas was able to pull you out, why can't Michael pull you back in?"

"Because I have you." Sam said simply and with absolute conviction. "If anyone in the world can keep me safe, it's you."

Dean looked at Sam and saw the belief there, the trust, and knew that the kid had put his faith in the wrong man. For what Sam had announced as his greatest sin, letting Dean down, Dean knew that his was a lot worse. His had always been the lack of faith he'd had in Sam, the lack of trust. To have Sam hold him in such high esteem as to trust him, again, with his life, broke Dean's heart. He knew he would never be enough for Sam, knew he could never protect him the way their father had wanted, the way he wanted. He only ever let Sam get hurt or killed.

"Sam…" he began to voice his thoughts, but was cut off.

"Dean, whatever you may be thinking, I believe in you. You'll keep me safe, because it's your job, and you've never failed before."

"But I have." he answered coldly, matter-of-factly.

"I don't think so." Sam pulled him into a hug, knowing Dean would hate it and refuse at first, but then would allow it to happen and be grateful.

* * *

"New Orleans?" Cas asked as he sipped some coffee.

"Yea, you want to come with us?" Sam replied.

"I do think it would provide a nice break from everything that's going on," he answered. "Yes, I'll come."

"Alrighty!" Dean exclaimed, "Get your stuff packed and let's hit the road!"

"Stuff?" Cas asked quizzically.

"Yea, you know, clothes and weapons and salt. Lots of salt." Dean answered, grinning.

"Oh, of course." Cas rose to start packing his stuff and Dean went to get his. Within a few minutes the three boys were ready to go and threw their duffels in the Impala and set off for New Orleans, Sam and Dean in front with Cas in the back.

Dean glanced in the rearview at Cas and then stole a look to his right at his brother. He realized then how much having his family together made him happy, happier than anything in the world could. For a moment, he didn't feel guilty that he sacrificed the world to burn so that he could have his brother. He didn't feel like the selfish bastard he thought he was for doing that, but instead he just felt, he guessed, at home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! Thanks for all the reviews, favs, and follows! This is a longer chapter than usual, and I think I'm going to try to do the rest around this length. I don't own Supernatural.**

Chapter 4

The Impala rumbled up the long driveway to a rather beaten down motel on the outskirts of New Orleans. Its ramshackle walls looked barely stable enough to support the old building, and, if Dean had to guess, he would say that the owners haven't done much to fix it up since Katrina, or any of the other storms. He didn't like the look of the place, but he hasn't hustled any pool lately, so they were fresh out of options.

He looked over at Sam sleeping in the passenger seat and at Cas in back, also sleeping. It unnerved him, though he would never admit it, how Cas slept now. He just couldn't seem to wrap his head around the fact that Cas is human, not angel. Cas needs sleep. Cas needs food. Cas needs water. His brain seemed not to want to make any sense of it, so it unsettled him greatly.

He blinked the troubling thoughts of Cas being human away and gently woke his brother. "Sam, I'm gonna go get us a room. Wait here with Cas." he whispered as Sam slowly came to consciousness.

"'Kay," was his slurred, tired reply. Dean casted a glance at him before he quietly got out of the Impala and began ambling towards the motel check-in. As he walked across the lot he noticed a glowing pair of eyes peer out at him from the dark shadows surrounding the building. His first instinct was to reach for his purgatory blade, but he cursed himself when he realized that he had left it in the Impala, not thinking that he would have trouble within the hundred feet from the car to the door. So instead, he stopped and stared defiantly back at the eyes, almost issuing a challenge akin to: _You wanna mess with me? _and the eyes slowly disappeared into the darkness. Dean didn't know whether to be relieved they were gone or more frightened, as now the creature could be anywhere.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and the bad feeling that accompanied the strange eyes and pushed forward into the motel lobby. He looked up to see an old, kind looking woman quietly reading behind the counter of the lobby. As he approached he cleared his throat to make his presence known and casually leaned against the counter.

"Would you like a room?" she asked, her voice not sounding as old as she looked, and it threw Dean for a second, but he quickly regained his composure and answered affirmatively. "Just one?" He guessed she was asking about beds, not rooms.

"Um, there are three of us. You got two beds and cot?" he asked. He really didn't want to share a bed with Sam, for, as much as he loves his brother, he felt that was crossing the line.

"Well," she answered, "we do have a room with two beds, but no cot. We could provide you a couple more blankets and pillows if you'd like."

"That'd be great, thanks." he answered, just a touch of sarcasm to his voice. He knew who'd end up on the blankets on the floor, even if it would be of his own volition so his baby brother and Cas wouldn't have to be uncomfortable.

"How are you paying?" Dean contemplated that for a moment, deciding between a fraudulent credit card and his hard earned money. He decided to use his money, reasoning that the place looked like it couldn't handle a week's worth of pay being fake. He handed over the cash and waited as she ringed them up. "Alright," she said distractedly, "here is your room. I'll send over someone shortly with those extra blankets."

"Thanks," he said again, shooting her a smile. She gave him one in return and he exited, heading straight for the Impala. He paused shortly as he exited, noticing the eyes again opposite of the Impala. He drew in a breath, his mind immediately going to the safety of the car's two inhabitants and quickly walked to maneuver himself between the eyes and the car. He stole a glance in the car to see that Sammy had fallen back asleep and Cas hadn't moved an inch. When he looked back the eyes were still there, just watching him, not moving any closer to reveal what they belonged to.

To Dean, it appeared that the eyes were at the level of a large dog, or even wolf, but there were no wolves in New Orleans, and a stray dog most likely would not be just staring at him like this. He felt increasingly nervous as the time stretched out, for he had no weapons on him, and he had no idea what he was facing.

He decided to step towards the creature, hoping to get a better view of it, and he stopped short as the creature also took a step towards him. He took another step forward, the creature doing the same. Dean could see it was just barely in the shadow now, and another step forward would bring it into the light of the motel's parking lot, but when he stepped forward the creature stood still. He tilted his head, confused by its strange behavior. It seemed too smart to be an animal, to know to keep to the shadows like that. It was unnerving.

"What are you?" he whispered. The eyes blinked, once. Dean felt his fear dissipating and instead felt just curiosity rising in its place. He knew it was a stupid move, to let his fear slip, for his fear would keep him alert, but that didn't stop it from slipping.

"Dean?" he heard Sam ask, an unspoken question underlying it, _what are you looking at?_

"Yeah?" He turned around to see Sam getting out of the car, and when he turned back to look where the eyes were, and saw that they were gone.

"You get the room?"

"Yeah." He tossed Sam the keys and walked to the edge of the shadow, but stayed in the light. He could feel his brother's gaze on him, but he didn't answer the question that went along with that gaze. Instead he peered into the shadows, looking for the source of the eyes he had seen, but found nothing. "Huh," he commented under his breath. There were no prints that he could discern, and there was no evidence of there ever being anything there.

"Dean?" Sam asked again.

"I'm coming," he answered distractedly, still looking for something, anything, to tell him he wasn't seeing things, but there was nothing. He gave up the search, for now, and headed back toward Sam. But suddenly the world seemed to tilt on its side and everything blurred together, and before he knew it he felt the warm pavement against his cheek and everything turned black.

* * *

Sam woke groggily in the safe confines of the Impala and wearily blinked his eyes open, pulling them into focus. He forgot that he was supposed to be getting their stuff together while Dean was getting the room, but he didn't think Dean would care that he fell asleep.

As he looked around he noticed his older brother standing by the Impala on the passenger side, looking at something in the shadows. Sam couldn't see anything, but the way his brother was standing, feet apart, shoulders squared, had Sam worrying. He figured that if Dean had hackles, they'd be raised right now. Something was seriously spooking his brother, but he couldn't seem to see what he was seeing. All he saw was the blackness beyond the light of the parking lot.

He looked back at Cas, who was still sleeping, and slowly got out of the car, not wanting to startle his brother while he was on high alert. "Dean?" he asked.

He watched Dean turn around and look at him, answering him "yeah?" before he turned back around to stare at the darkness again.

"You get the room?" Sam was curious as to what he was looking at, but he was so exhausted and in need of a shower that all he could think about was getting inside the motel room.

"Yeah," his brother answered, turning toward him with a confused expression on his face and tossed him the keys. Sam caught them purely by reflex, because he was sure that if he had to think about catching the keys, he never would have been able to. He stayed a moment longer, beginning to worry over his brother. The look Dean had given him, probably unintentionally, unsettled him.

"Dean?" he asked again.

"I'm coming," came his quiet, distracted reply. Sam watched as his brother turned around and begin walking towards him, and, relieved that he was finally coming, Sam turned and walked toward the motel, looking down at the keys to see the room they had been put in. He reached the door and began to ask Dean if he wanted to shower first when he realized that his brother wasn't behind him. He turned and saw Dean lying face down on the ground, his right arm pinned underneath him at an odd angle. His skin looked ghostly pale and Sam couldn't tell if he was breathing.

"Dean?" he called as he rushed over, clumsily from exhaustion, to his brother. He nearly tripped over his own feet trying to sit down next to him. "Dean?" he said again, gently shaking him, trying to wake him. "Hey, wake up." he watched as Dean's eyelids fluttered but did not open.

"Sam?" came a voice from behind him that he recognized belonged to Cas. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. He gently grabbed Dean's forehead to try to twist him around when he felt how hot his brother's skin was. He pulled his hand away before he realized what he was doing. "Cas, help me get him up."

Cas moved over and grabbed onto Dean's left arm while Sam took his right, carefully moving it from underneath his body and feeling for any breaks. He felt his shoulder had popped out of place, but other than that his arm seemed to be okay despite the way it had laid underneath him. They pulled Dean to his feet and began angling him toward the motel room when he stirred beneath them.

"Sam?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm here, Dean," he replied, moving his brother's head so that their eyes met. Dean's were barely open and Sam could only just catch a glimpse of the deep green of his eyes. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," he replied, taking most of his weight to stand on his own, but Sam kept his arm around his waist to steady him. "I think I'm just tired."

"Alright, we're almost in the room." Cas let go completely and Sam was relieved to see that Dean didn't sway when he did so. Maybe he _was_ just tired, but Sam still suspected something else was going on. He fumbled with the key for a minute before inserting it into the door and opening it up to reveal a room with only two beds. "Um, Dean," he began.

"They're bringing stuff to make a bed on the floor outta blankets." he replied as he moved away from Sam to sit on the floor, clearing telling them both that they could take the beds.

"No," Sam said, "you can have the bed; I'll sleep on the floor."

"No, it's fine, Sammy."

Sam walked over to Dean and very roughly put his hand on Dean's shoulder, knowing full well that it was still out of socket, trying to show Dean that he was the one in pain and should have the bed. He heard Dean's sharp intake of breath, but he didn't say anything and seemed to just ignore Sam.

"You want me to put it back in place?"

"How'd it get out?" Sam looked at his brother, suddenly worried that he didn't remember how he knocked his shoulder out of place.

"You passed out."

"Oh," Dean finally looked up at Sam, "yeah, will you put it back in place?" Sam nodded and as Dean got into position he counted to three and shoved it back into place. Dean growled in pain and then sat back down on the floor as a knock was heard at the door. Sam looked at him, and he simply said "blankets and pillows."

Sam stood and looked through the peep hole before he opened the door and took the spare blankets and pillows while thanking the lady who brought them. He turned around, realizing he hadn't heard from Cas in a few minutes and found him already sleeping, fully clothed, on the far bed.

"Here," Dean held out his hand for the blankets and pillows, and Sam, knowing he didn't have the energy to argue and win against his brother, gave in and handed them over. "We'll get up around eight and head out to the place."

"'Kay," Sam said tiredly and gathered his sleeping clothes together, "You wanna shower first?" But Dean was already lying on a messy heap of blankets and sleeping with his jacket as a cover. Sam noticed that Dean hadn't even taken the time to fully spread out his blankets and sighed, shaking his head at his brother. _You shouldn't have driven the whole night through,_ he thought to himself and headed to the shower.

As he came back into the room he saw that Dean was no longer lying on the floor, and so he looked to bed thinking maybe he had moved, but he wasn't there either. Dean was nowhere to be seen.


End file.
